In 1853 Miss Booth proposed that twelve of the advanced pupils—James and herself among the number —should organize a literary society for the purpose of spending the approaching vacation of four weeks in a more thorough study of the classics. The society was formed, and the services of one of the professors were secured, to whom they recited statedly. During that vacation they read “the Pastorals of Virgil, the first six books of the Iliad, accompanied by a thorough drill in the Latin and Greek grammars at each recitation.” It proved a very profitable vacation to James, a season to which he always looked back with pride and pleasure. He regarded Miss Booth as the moving and controlling spirit of that society, increasing his sense of obligation to her.

Perhaps the chief reason of Miss Booth’s confidence in the Christian purpose of James, as expressed to the principal, was found in his consistent Christian life. From the time he became a member of the Institute he took an active part in the religious meetings, identifying himself with the people of God in the village. His exhortations and appeals were examples of earnestness and eloquence, to which the students and citizens listened in rapt attention. No students of so much power in religious meetings had been connected with the school. Indeed, it was the universal testimony that no such speaker, of his age, had ever been heard.

Father Bentley, pastor of the Disciples’ Church in Hiram, was wonderfully drawn to James. After a few months, he felt that James’s presence was almost indispensable to the success of a meeting. He invited him specially to address the audience. Often he urged him to take a seat upon the platform, that he might address the assembly to better advantage. In his absence he invited James to take charge of the meeting. The last year of his stay at Hiram, Father Bentley persuaded him several times to occupy his pulpit on the Sabbath, and preach, which he did to the gratification of the audience.

His gift at public speaking was so remarkable, that a demand was frequently made upon him for a speech on social and public occasions. It is related that, at a weekly prayer-meeting, he was on the platform with Father Bentley, waiting to perform his accustomed part, when a messenger came for him to address a political meeting, where speakers had failed them. Father Bentley scarcely noticed what was going on, until James was half-way down the aisle, when he called out:

“James, don’t go!” then quickly, as if thinking his request might be unreasonable, he said to the congregation, “Never mind, let him go; that boy will yet be President of the United States.”

“I remember his vigorous exhortations now,” remarked a Christian woman before his death, who was connected with the Institute at that time; “they were different from anything I was accustomed to hear in conference meetings.”

“How were they different?” she was asked.

“They were original and fresh beyond anything I had ever heard in such meetings; nothing commonplace or stale about them, making one feel that they were not the thoughts of some commentator he was giving us at secondhand, but the product of his own genius and great talents, uttered with real earnestness and sincerity.”

“He must have possessed a wonderful command of language,” remarked her friend.

“That was one thing that charmed us. His flow of language, appropriate and select, was like a river. It seemed as if he had only to open his mouth, and thoughts flowed out clothed in language that was all aglow. Many, many times I heard the remark, ‘He speaks as easily as he breathes.’ Well,” she continued after a pause, “he was substantially just such a speaker then as he is now, bating the dignity that age and experience impart.”

In this connection we should speak of him as a debater in the lyceum. He was older and more experienced at Hiram than he was at Chester, and his efforts in debate were accordingly more manly. The Illinois lady, from whom we have already quoted, says, “In the lyceum he early took rank far above the others